


Dear Wormwood

by va13ntino



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Gen, One Shot, Other, Redemption, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 01:24:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20024254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/va13ntino/pseuds/va13ntino
Summary: I have so many Good Omens fic ideas in the works, but uh here's a really quick one shot to break the posting-ice. Named for a song by The Oh Hellos.





	Dear Wormwood

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many Good Omens fic ideas in the works, but uh here's a really quick one shot to break the posting-ice. Named for a song by The Oh Hellos.

It had been a couple of months since Armageddon had not been fought, and Crowley was settling into his new life with greater ease than he’d ever expected. Being free to do as he pleased on Earth, and being free to be with Aziraphale, felt like falling into a soft bed after the longest work shift imaginable.

It was a day much like any other when he realized that he no longer cared about redemption in the eyes of the Almighty. He wasn’t sure if She was still out there, or still cared about Earth or Heaven or Hell, or if, when things started to go sideways, She had found some far-distant stars of Her own amongst which to enact new designs. Whatever She was doing now, She had thrown him out, and left everyone to their own devices, and he’d be damned all over again if he cared what She thought.

What mattered now was if he was worthy in the eyes of a being who was made completely of love; not the self-righteous kind of love, nor the pitying kind of love that felt crueler than hate, but genuine, selfless love. Crowley’s redemption was not formal. It was was not a theatric meant to make the redeemer look merciful. His redemption came in few words. _I forgive you. I love you._

Crowley had not been spending much time in his flat, not that he ever had, but he still had it for the moment. He did not say anything to his plants that day, but after the usual watering, he brought a small plant into the room. A plant which had been repotted with fresh soil and trimmed of diseased leaves. He set it down amongst the others, then put on his jacket for his dinner with Aziraphale.

A sunbeam fell on the small plant just as he was closing the door.

  



End file.
